Byron-4 (13 page)

His mouth closed over her clit and he began fucking her with his tongue. His strokes were hard and smooth, relentless and fast. The ball ring on his tongue was rubbing her clit hard then soft, slow then fast. She had never had a man touch her this way, lick at her with such intensity that she wanted it to last forever and to end quickly.

She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything other than what he was doing to her body. When his hand came down hard on her ass, she opened her eyes and looked down her body at him.

“Watch me lick you. Watch me while I feast on this hot pussy of yours and think about my tongue lapping up your cream and drinking from you. Think about how much my tongue ring is fucking you and that soon, very soon, I’m going to be doing this with my cock. I’m going to fuck you hard, slave.” His face was wet from her; his chin was glistening with her cream.

He moved his hand up her thigh as he watched her, and moved it to her ass. She knew what he was going to do, knew without a doubt that he was going to fuck her ass with his finger. When he pressed his finger against the tight ring, she nearly closed her eyes and threw back her head. No one had ever touched her there before. Josh said that it wasn’t for him. She had always been disappointed about that, but was suddenly glad that he hadn’t.

“Has anyone ever been inside you here, Taylor? Has anyone every fucked this tight ass of yours until you screamed?” His finger broke through the tight ring and she felt her eyes flutter again, but she never broke eye contact with him.

The pain was wonderfully dark. The more he moved his finger in and out of her, the better it felt. The burning was replaced with pleasure and, soon, it too was taking her closer to her orgasm.

“No. No one has ever...please, I-I please.” She wasn’t sure what she was begging for, but hoped that he knew. When he lowered his head to her pussy again, he moved his free hand to between her legs and pushed another finger into her tight channel.

She could almost feel them touching; his fingers were working her gently but firmly. Taylor moved her foot along his thigh and brushed over his erection and waited for him to tell her to stop. When he didn’t, she pressed the toes of her booted foot over his cock and moved her boot up and down him, using just enough of the heel to make him shudder. He started pumping against her foot and she nearly screamed then. She would have if he hadn’t inserted another finger into both of her virginal holes and pumped into her faster. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even remember how.

“Christ, you’re killing me. I want to fuck this hot pussy of yours so bad that I can hardly think. Scream for me, baby. Scream for me so that I can end this and fuck you.” He nipped at her clit then, and then pulled it deep into his mouth and using his tongue, flicked at it relentlessly while he pumped his fingers into her deeper and harder. She was close, so close she had tunnel vision and saw stars flashing around the room. She opened her mouth to scream when she heard a beeping go off.

He pulled away. He didn’t move from his knees but sat there on them and panted.

Her own breath wasn’t so steady, but she still needed to come. She wanted to come now. When he finally stood, she noticed that he didn’t touch her, and when he reached up to unbuckle her wrist, he did so from behind her. Her swaying body brushed his once and his hiss nearly undid her.

“Go to the St. Andrews Cross and put your back against it. I want you to spread your arms and legs wide to the straps. You’ll wait there for me until I return.” Her legs were wobbly and weak and she staggered a couple of times on the way across the room.

He walked with her, but he didn’t touch her in any way. She could understand that. She was close enough to catch fire too.

When she backed against the St. Andrews, she spread her arms out. Her feet fit into the little grooves at the bottom and her heel of her boots slid off the back. She looked across from her and sucked in her breath.

Across from her was a mirror. Not a small one either. She would bet that it had been specially made as it was easily ten feet tall and the width of the wall—about fifteen feet. With her legs spread and her arms up over her head, she was open and wide. She could see everything. Her clit was red from his mouth and her thighs had tiny marks on them where he had nipped at her. Her nipples were a deep red and puckered so tight she wanted to touch them, run her fingers over them to feel the slight pain/pleasure that she knew would be there because of the clamps. The woman staring back at her looked dazed, wild, and ready to try or do anything.

“See what I see? See the way your body looks for me, ready and hot? I’m going to turn you around now then I’m going to tie you here and spank you. I’m going to watch your ass get redder and redder. Then I’m going to fuck you. Fuck you until we both can’t walk.”

He turned her around and then buckled her in the cuffs. She had been tied to this apparatus when the man at The Flogger had hurt her. Taylor could feel the panic begin to set in and she nearly said her safe word. Then Byron was in front of her again.

“I’m not going to hurt you. If you want to stop, now would be a good time to say your safe word and I’ll take you home. I have to tell you Taylor, I’m so close that I fear disgracing myself at any minute.” She laughed and knew that was what he had meant to happen. She nodded at him and he disappeared behind her.

The first lash was quick, nearly before she could settle in. He hit her across her ass and she pulled at the bonds. The next two were quick and then he took the soft flogger and tapped her pussy with it gently but firmly. Once, twice until she thought she would come from it. He brought the leather over her thighs next, then her shoulders twice before tapping it across her pussy again. Her body was on fire and knew that if he touched her there again, she was going to come.

Then his bare body slid over hers, his erection pressed hard against her ass, and she moaned. When he cupped her breasts and squeezed them, she didn’t care if he beat her until she bled; she knew that she had to have him, have him deep inside her now.

“I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to ram my cock deep into you and fuck you until you come hard all over me. Then I’m going to do it again.” He voice whispered over her skin and she pressed back against him.

The first buckle fell from her wrist and she dropped her arm. She had been pulling against the restraints so hard that her arms were sore and tender. He ran his hand down her arm and pulled her hand to his ass. She grabbed it and shimmied against him. He felt so good, so hard. When the next buckle let go, he did the same thing, moved her hand to his ass and pushed his hard cock into the crack of her ass and fucked her this way. He had never buckled her feet, so when he turned her around and lifted, she wrapped her legs around him. At some point, he had taken off his shirt. His chest looked as though it had been sculpted from stone. There was no hair on his chest, but a small trail of it ran from his navel to his groin. His cock was strained between the two of them.

He lifted her against his cock and rode her hard over him. Looking down, she could see her juices covering him. She started to reach down and touch him, but he pulled her hand back quickly.

“You do that, and I’m finished. I can’t wait anymore, baby. I need to be inside you.

Now.” Byron lifted her again and with her back against the St. Andrews, he impaled her over his shaft. She screamed.

~CHAPTER 13~

Byron didn’t move. Tears, fat and wet, trailed down her cheeks as she held her body rigid over him. He could feel her body adjusting to his, milking and pulling at him. He didn’t want to hurt her any more. A virgin. How the hell...? She moved and he moaned before he could think. Her body was so tight and hot, he shifted slightly to relieve some of the pressure on his cock and she moaned. He moved again, this time gently rocking into her, and Taylor grabbed his shoulders and dug her nails into him.

“Please. Please, master. I need...I beg you, let me come.” He looked into her eyes and he could see her pain and her need looking back at him. He rocked again and she trembled. He was so close and he knew if she came, she was going to bring him with her. He leaned forward and worried the nipple clamp with his tongue and then suckled it into his mouth. She cried out. Not from pain, but need. “Please,” she sobbed.

“Come for me, Taylor. Come now.” She didn’t just come, she detonated.

Her body tensed for all of three seconds, then shattered around him. Her scream this time rent the air and he could hear his name as she cried it out over and over as she came. Her breasts swelled incredibly tighter and her nipples stiffened into hard peaks.

When she surged against him, he realized that he hadn’t moved, had forgotten to join her in her ecstasies while watching her emotions move across her face. He rocked harder into her. Over and over her body convulsed around his; her tight channel milked him and pulled him deeper into her.

He slid his hand behind her and pressed his finger into her rose bud and she came again. Every time he rocked into her, he pressed deeper into her ass. Watching her come again, he didn’t feel his own climax coming up until it grabbed him by the balls and took him.

With a roar, he came hard and quick, filling her with his seed, spilling all he had within her. Then when he thought he would collapse, another powerful climax ripped over him, through him, and he surged harder into her again and again. Over and over he pumped into her; over and over he felt his cock jerk and empty inside of her.

Byron couldn’t move. He knew that he should, but he was positive that he couldn’t.

He lifted his head, quite a feat, he thought, and looked at Taylor. Her eyes were closed and he could see her pulse pounding at her throat.

It was then that he realized that her arms were limp at her sides and that her legs no longer held him. She was unconscious. Whether from exhaustion of because she had come so hard, he didn’t know, but he did smile. He could never remember rendering a woman unconscious before during sex. He gently pulled her head forward and leaned her against his shoulder. Lifting her a little higher, he moved them away from their makeshift bed and nearly staggered. Christ, he had also never felt so wobbly before either. Moving slowly, he led them to the only other door in the room and to the bed beyond. He had slept there once or twice after a good session, but never had he taken a woman there before. He laid her gently on the bed and looked down at her.

She didn’t move. Moving to the other side of the bed, he pulled the blankets to the bottom and then moved the sheet wide. He went around and picked her up and then laid her on the opposite pillow and covered her up. He wanted to wake her and talk to her. He wanted to take her to the bathroom and take a long shower with her, but mostly, he wanted to crawl in beside her and pull her close. He wanted to hold her throughout the night and most of the day tomorrow if she would let him. Frowning, Byron went into the bathroom, closed the door, and looked in the mirror.

He was so fucked. He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she made him want things he didn’t need. He didn’t cuddle with women after sex. He sent them on their merry way, satisfied and sated. He didn’t shower with them unless it was to continue what they had started, but never to soothe away their sore muscles. And he didn’t take a woman’s virginity. Rubbing his hand over his face, he scowled at his reflection. He was so fucked.

He went into the play room and picked up their discarded clothing. Picking up her skirt nearly made him whimper. No panties. She hadn’t worn panties under this scrap of denim. He put everything, including her pack from his office, into the bath and left the bedroom, purposely not looking at the beautiful woman in his bed.

~~~

Taylor woke to a semi dark room. She didn’t know where she was at first, but when she moved and pain moved through her body, she remembered. Everything. She had had sex.

Sitting up with the sheet pulled to her breasts, she looked around the room. Her eyes had adjusted now and she could make out the furniture with the light from the room right next to the bed. She assumed it was the bathroom. There wasn’t a lot of furniture in the big room. There was a small desk that looked to have a new computer on it. There was a cabinet above it, closed now, and a printer on a cart. The chair was huge and looked like someone could sink into it if they wanted. There were a set of doors, sliders that she assumed was a closet, and two wingback chairs that sat to the right of the freestanding fireplace. And then the bed.

The bed was the biggest thing she had ever seen. It was a four poster that looked as if it might be old, but she knew about as much about antiques as she did anything else—very little. But it was so comfortable that she thought she might like to spend an eternity in it. That thought got her moving.

She went into the bath and was shocked at the decadence in it. The shower was huge! It looked as though several people, or two very active people, could fit inside of it. That image made her blush. There was also a garden tub with jets along most of the walls. She longed to sit in it, but remembered that this thing with Byron was for just the one night. And she had read enough romance books to know that the morning after was always uncomfortable. Instead, she reached into her pack and pulled out her baby wipes and started to clean herself up.

The blood and semen on her thighs gave her pause. She had given him her virginity. She wondered fleetingly if he noticed, and doubted it. He probably thought she was an incredibly horrible lay and wrote her off. Probably why he wasn’t in bed with her. She huffed to herself. Pulling out clean panties and jeans, she started to dress.

She had packed her street clothes in her bag just in case and was really glad that she had. Her breasts were sore and tender. The clamps were gone—probably thought she would steal them—and her bra hurt, but she put it on anyway thinking once she got home, she would put ice or heat on them.

The longer it took her to dress, the angrier she got. It was directed mostly at Byron, but she knew that whatever had happened between them was entirely her doing. It had been incredible and the most satisfying thing she had ever experienced, something she would think about years from now. But it was over, wham, bam, thank you ma’am; don’t let the door hit you on the way out.